


the wolves are at the window, the wolves are at the door

by coyotesuspect



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyotesuspect/pseuds/coyotesuspect
Summary: When Vax takes a job from the Clasp that sends him and his sister to the far northern city of Whitestone, the last thing he expects is for both of them to fall for the Lord of Whitestone's son.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nighimpossible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighimpossible/gifts).



“Brother” – and Vax feels the sharp jab of a thumb into the back of his neck – “I’m _cold_.” 

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?” he hisses.

Vex jabs him again. When she speaks, her voice is high with indignation. 

“I expect you not to have dragged us to the northern most corner of this continent!” 

He turns so he’s facing her and grabs her arm, then yanks her against him. He gets his other hand up and over her mouth just in time to catch the startled curse that tumbles out of it. He holds her tight. 

“I promise you,” he whispers into her ear. “We are going to make so much money.” 

Vex rolls her eyes with phenomenal expressiveness then jams two knuckles into the soft space just beneath Vax’s ribs. He lets go of her with a curse of his own. Vex smirks in triumph. A strand of hair has come loose from her braid and hangs in her face. Vax itches to smooth it back, but Vex takes care of it first, with a fluid movement, and then resettles herself against him. He puts his arm over her shoulder. 

“At least I’m a little warmer now,” she says, after a few seconds of silence. She pauses thoughtfully and adds, “Ass.”

Vax grins and squeezes her shoulder. “Count the coins again. They’ll make you even warmer.” 

Vex snorts derisively, but does as he suggests. In the thin morning light, the Clasp’s advance of silver glimmers with a cold menace, but Vex’s eyes have lit up brilliantly. It’s more money than either of them have seen in months – and all for the mere promise of mapping a castle in the far north of nowhere. Though, tightfisted as Vex is, was not quite enough money for a northbound merchant to give them a little space in one of his wagons. So they’d stowed away instead.

Vax watches Vex count the money twice, then tuck it away into a hidden pocket in her cloak with a small, satisfied nod of her head. His eyes linger on her cloak. It’s too thin. He can already see through the chinks in the wagon that the trees are bare and the fields winter-fallow. 

Soon, though, they’ll be able to buy her a new one. 

***

Whitestone is busier than Vax had expected for a place he’s never heard of. It’s cheerful, though the ground is hard with frost, and the buildings are hung with decorations for Winter’s Crest. The townsfolk – all human – bustle through the central square, arms full of fresh-smelling bread and winter squash. Several pause to glance at the two idling half-elves, but no one approaches. Their glances linger on Vax and Vex’s ears. 

Vax’s neck prickles but he ignores the oglers and lifts his eyes. A castle broods above the city, the white stone of it sparkling and red-cast from the setting sun. The style is heavier and rougher than Syngorn’s architecture, but it arouses in Vax a similar disdain. 

“The fuckers who own that must be real bastards.” 

“Oh, hush,” scolds Vex. “We don’t even know them.”

She hasn’t even looked up to see the castle. Her eyes instead are on the sign of the inn they’re standing across from. He can tell she’s doing math in her head, trying to decide how much they’ll be able to afford, how long they might need to stay. Though only a couple hours past noon, the sun is low in a purpling sky, the shadows long. 

Vax touches his sister’s shoulder. 

“Let’s just pay for the night.” He looks up at the castle. “I’m sure in a place like that, we’ll be able to find somewhere to stay.” 

***

“You can’t get in through there.” 

Vax and Vex both whip around. A black-haired youth of their age stands behind them, wearing an expensive coat and an irritated expression. He holds a book in one hand and an unstrung longbow in another. Everything about him reads as a coddled, noble youth. Even his voice reminds Vax of the spoiled aesthetes who comprised their peers at Syngorn. 

Vex and Vax exchange glances. Neither says anything. The youth shifts awkwardly, and his gaze slides from Vex to Vax. 

“What are you doing here?” he demands. 

“We’re trying to get in,” says Vex, her voice small. She lowers her eyes modestly. “Please, sir, we’re cold.”

The boy turns slightly pink at Vex’s words and doesn’t look at her. He keeps his eyes trained on Vax instead. Vax feels a coolness settle over him that has nothing to do with the actual cold. 

“Well. Like I said, you can’t get in through there. It’s a fake door.” 

“A fake door?” repeats Vax. “Why is there a fake door?” 

The youth smiles with dark humor. “To trick someone who’s trying to break in while the guards sneak up on them from the real door.”

The boy doesn’t look like a guard. He’s too young, too soft, too obviously unprepared to have to kill anything let alone a person. Besides the unstrung bow, his only other weapons are two ornately-pommeled daggers hanging from his belt. Vex and Vax, even after a night’s sleep in a real bed, still look like what they are – hardened travelers. Vex’s bow is strung, and the pommels of Vax’s daggers are dull with use. 

“Are you here to arrest us?” asks Vex, in the same soft, worried voice. 

The youth flushes darker. 

“No – I. I was just coming here to read. I don’t – my family is fox-hunting. I didn’t feel like participating.”

Vex can’t stifle an outraged gasp at ‘fox-hunting,’ but the youth looks sympathetic. 

“It’s a barbaric practice, though it is tradition.”

They stand in awkward silence. It’s been snowing on and off since that morning, and the snow begins again, drifting down slowly and sticking to the hard earth. Vex shivers and draws her cloak more tightly around herself. That breaks the spell. Both Vax and the boy step to her at once. 

“I should let you – ”

“Vex’ahlia, take my – ”

“Is that in Elvish?” says Vex brightly, interrupting them both. She points at the book the boy carries. 

“Oh, uh. Yes.” He holds the book a little more tightly, looking sheepish. “I’m teaching myself how to read it.” 

“Well, we could help you with that, darling,” says Vex with a dazzling smile, all softness and modesty cast aside. 

“Oh! You speak… Elvish,” finishes the boy lamely, looking at Vax’s ears. Vax bares his teeth at him. 

“Of course we do. Now are you going to let us in or not?” 

The boy hesitates for a second and then nods firmly, callow youth and decisive noble all at once. He leads them away from the door they spent a half hour unsuccessfully trying to break into and past a low wall of thorny bushes, bursting with red winter berries. 

“Yes. It’s very rude of me to leave you both out here… And I should have introduced myself. My name is Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the third. My parents are the Lord and Lady of Whitestone.” 

“Ooh, _milord_ ,” murmurs Vex. Vax elbows her, and they both watch the tips of Percival’s ears go red. 

“But you can call me Percy,” he says, turning. There is a faint depression in the wall behind him. 

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Freddy,” says Vax, grinning. 

Vex elbows him. Percy laughs.

“I’m Vex,” she says. “And this rude peasant is my brother, Vax.” 

Percy grins at them both. “I’ll try to keep that straight.” 

“You seem very smart,” says Vax mildly. “Shouldn’t be too hard for someone of your obvious intellect.”

Percy looks at him suspiciously but doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns to the wall and touches an apparently random section. There’s the grind and groan of moving stone and the depression deepens until a whole section of the wall swings away, revealing a low-roofed tunnel into the castle. Vax swears in appreciation. 

“I’m the only one who ever uses it nowadays,” explains Percy. “Mostly when I want to hide from my family. No one’s tried to attack Whitestone in ages.”

“Congratulations,” says Vax crossly. He knows from personal experience that many other parts of Exandria are not so lucky. 

Percy doesn’t respond, but ducks low and leads them. Vex and Vax have no choice but to follow. Vex spares him a worried look as they enter – _how are we going to get out of this one, brother?_. Vax shrugs in response. Percy, if not overly friendly, so far does not seem hostile either. Vax has no doubt they’ll be able to talk their way out of this one. 

The tunnel leads faintly but persistently up. Vax’s legs ache a little as they keep walking and he spares a brief moment of grudging respect for Percy. The youth isn’t even flushed, even in the thick coat he wears. He must take this path often. Vex keeps up a steady stream of chatter with him, talking about the beauty of the castle, how much they’d admired it from the city beneath, how lovely the town itself was, how quaint, like something out of a picture book. 

The tunnel terminates in a thick wooden door, bound with iron. Percy fumbles in his coat for a second and comes up with a heavy iron key. He unlocks the door and leads them into a dimly lit stone hallway. There a few sputtering torches on the wall, and thin, narrow windows at either end of the hallway reveal only a steely gray sky, a swirl of snowflakes that cast dancing shadows along the flagstone floor. The air smells thick with dust. Servants may come down to light this hall, but they apparently don’t come to clean. 

“We never use this wing,” says Percy, almost apologetic. 

“Oh, of course not,” says Vax. “It’s far too old-fashioned.”

Vex snorts and Percy gives him a look like he’s not sure whether or not Vax is joking. Vax smiles back blandly in response. 

“Anyway,” continues Percy. “This is where my workshop is.” 

“Your workshop?” 

Percy nods, and his smile is at once mischievous and shy. Vax gets the sense not many get to see the inside of Percival Fredrickstein Von Blah Blah de Rolo’s workshop. Percy fishes out another key and opens one of the few doors in the hall. Vax eyes the key speculatively. He has a lock picking tools stashed safely away in his cloak, but if he could lift some of Percy’s keys, that would certainly help their exploration of the castle. 

The room Percy leads them into is large and cluttered. A workbench takes up most of it, and it’s covered with paper and bits of metal and empty mugs and candles sitting in pools of wax. Vax can make out sketches on the paper, intricate designs of flight and fancy, and the bits of metal on the table are clearly Percy’s attempts to bridge the gap between fantasy and reality – faintly gleaming silver beasts and complex contraptions whose purpose Vax can only guess at. More scrolls of paper lay in a jumble by the bench, and stacks of books – overflowing from the shelves that line one wall of the room – sprout like the trees of a forest from the floor. A fireplace lays at one end of the room, its fire banked, and two large, padded, threadbare chairs stand catty-corner to it. 

“It’s a bit of a mess,” says Percy. 

“I think it’s lovely,” says Vex. 

Honestly, Vax does too, but he says nothing, merely watches as Percy moves to the fireplace and rekindles the fire. So he can do some things for himself, thinks Vax approvingly. Percy sinks into one of the chairs, once the fire has been built back up, and then gestures at Vax and Vex to join him. They do. Vax briefly gets a mouthful of braid, but they squeeze in together comfortably enough in the chair across from Percy. 

Percy adjusts his glasses and the fire catches them, turns his gaze briefly flame. 

“You never explained why you’re in Whitestone,” he says. 

“Well…” begins Vex. She glances at Vax. 

“We’re bastards,” says Vax. He points to his ears. “Elf father. Human mother.” 

Percy flinches very faintly at the word bastards. His good breeding enough to make him hate the coarseness of the word, but not quite enough to let him hide that distaste. 

Vex lowers her eyes, taking her cue from Vax.

“Our mother raised us while we were children. But then our father sent for us to join him in Syngorn. He felt… responsible for us, I suppose. Or responsible for his bloodline.” 

“Syngorn,” says Percy, voice soft with awe.

Vax snorts derisively. “It’s not that great.” 

“No, it’s not,” echoes Vex. There’s a blankness to her face and voice that Vax hates, that he’ll never be able to forgive his father for. But everything can be a weapon, even the truth. Especially the truth, thinks Vax, at times like this.

“Oh,” says Percy, polite, puzzled. “Was it… What happened?”

Vex lifts her head and smiles, beautiful and heart-breaking and Vax can practically hear Percy’s heart skip. They have him, thinks Vax triumphantly. They’ll be able to do whatever they want with him. 

“We just didn’t fit in,” says Vex.

“Elves generally don’t approve of diluting the race,” says Vax grimly. “I don’t think our father did. Tell me, Percival,” and he fixes Percy with an intent stare. Percy, to his credit, does not shrink, though he does blush faintly. “Do you know what it’s like to spend every day of your life knowing your father considers you to be his greatest mistake?” 

Percy shakes his head. Vex leans over and squeezes his hand, offers another one of those jeweled smiles. He turns crimson. 

“So we ran away,” continues Vex, condensing weeks of arguments and planning, of late-night, hushed conversations and one final screaming match with their father into a few simple words. 

“And we’ve been on the road ever since.”

Percy looks between them. 

“And you decided to come to Whitestone? _In winter_?” 

Vax curses silently. So maybe Percy isn’t as dazzled as Vax believed. 

“Oh,” says Vex. She lets go of Percy’s hand and blushes. “That’s because of me. I heard the lights up north in winter are beautiful. I wanted to see them. We just…” She smiles, embarrassed. “Ran out of money on the way up here.” 

Vax briefly furrows his brow at Vex, while Percy is too busy staring at her for Percy to notice. She’s never mentioned anything about wanting to see the aurora, and, yet, it sounds like she’s telling the truth. He’s not sure which unsettles him more, that he can’t tell when his sister is lying, or that he didn’t know this about her. Vex doesn’t look back at him. Her gaze is too intent on Percy.

“Well,” says Percy, voice like a man who’s just been smacked in the face with a board. “The aurora is quite lovely.”

He hesitates, and then adds, voice a little more under control now, “I suppose you could stay down here for a bit while you try to see them. In exchange for help with Elvish.” 

“Oh, thank you,” says Vex. 

Vax purses his mouth and nods. “Thanks,” he says. “We appreciate it.” 

“Yes, well.” Percy adjusts his glasses and smiles thinly at them both. “Already I can tell the two of you are the most interesting thing to happen to Whitestone in a while”

Vex laughs and winks at him. “Oh, darling, you don’t know the half of it.” 

Percy turns red once more. 

“You really don’t,” says Vax, and he winks too, because why the hell not?

Percy turns even redder. 

He’s saved by a knock at the door, and then the door handle jangles as someone tries to open it. Vax and Vex both stiffen, but Percy just looks annoyed, his usual pallor returned. 

“Percy!” shouts a young girl’s voice. “We all know you’re down here! Mother and Father say to come up for supper! And you’re in _trouble_.” 

Percy rolls his eyes. 

“One minute, Cassandra!” he shouts back crossly. “I’m in the middle of a project!”

“I’m not leaving until you come out!” 

“Sisters,” says Vax quietly, in sympathy. Vex elbows him. 

Percy laughs faintly and then sighs. He gestures at them to get behind his worktable, out of sight of anyone standing in the doorway. 

He hesitates, then adds, “I’m sorry I don’t have anything to give you to eat now. I can bring you down something after.” 

“It’s all right, darling,” whispers Vex. “We’re used to going without.” 

Percy turns red, says nothing, and leaves. 

“There you are!” snaps his sister, with a stamp of her foot. 

“Oh, shush,” snaps Percy back. 

“I told you we’d find a place to stay here tonight,” says Vax, after the sound of Percy and Cassandra’s footsteps and chatter has faded to nothing. 

Vex snorts and stands up from behind the workbench. She picks up a small metal cat from Percy’s workbench. Its belly is open, revealing a complex set of machinery. She admires the creation carefully. 

“He seems nice,” she says thoughtfully. 

“He does,” allows Vax. “Do you think he’ll keep us?” 

Vex rolls her eyes and places the cat gently back down on the workbench. 

“It’s not like we need to be here for long.” 

***

Percy returns later that night with food and two thick fur blankets. Vax is hungry and stiff with cold, and Vex has tucked herself into a small ball next to him. Even with the fire still burning, the stones of the castle seem to hold the cold and reflect it back twice-fold. 

“My apologies for the wait,” says Percy, placing the food on the table. Vax’s stomach growls audibly. 

“It’s all right, dear,” says Vex, falling to the food at once. 

Vax joins her without saying a word. He’s ravenous. Percy’s brought them dark, rich bread with real butter, root vegetables sliced and roasted in a savory spice, and two flaky pastries filled with meat and gravy. They eat with their hands, elbowing and jostling each other when they reach for the same tidbit. 

Percy watches them devour the food, aghast. 

“That’s really how you eat?” he demands. “You said you were from Syngorn!” 

“We lived in Syngorn,” corrects Vax. He wipes some gravy from his face. “And – like we said – everyone there was full of shit.” 

To Vax’s surprise, Percy laughs. 

“Yes, I suppose if Syngorn society is anything like the nobles I know, they would be.” 

“Oh?” says Vex. 

“It’s all just – it’s very false, isn’t it? It’s just posturing and artifice.” Percy looks startled by his own words, like he can’t believe he’s actually voicing them. Vax wonders how often he’s voiced these thoughts even to himself. 

Vax grins. “Poor little rich boy.”

“Vax,” scolds Vex, swatting at him. 

But Percy shakes his head and meets Vax’s gaze with a rueful smile. “No, you’re right. I’m pitying myself.” He pauses, and then says, “Though I do believe we had a deal.” 

He produces the book he’d been carrying early and smiles shyly at them. 

“I’m afraid it’s rather more technical than I’m used to with Elvish texts.” 

“There’s no guarantee we’ll understand it then. Especially my brother. He’s rather dull,” says Vex, amused. She leaves the table to sit on the arm of Percy’s chair. She braces one arm against Percy’s shoulder and leans over him. Percy, to his credit, does not blush his time. 

“She’s right,” says Vax mournfully. He sinks deep into the other armchair. “She was always better at her studies than me. But at least I’m pretty.” 

“Hey!” shouts Vex with a laugh. She kicks at him, but she’s too far to really connect, and he dodges easily. 

Percy coughs. “I don’t think that’s,” and then he stops. 

They both look at him expectantly. Percy sinks deeper into his chair. He opens the book. 

“Anyway. This was the passage I was having trouble with.” 

He holds it up to Vex and she leans closer. Her lips move slightly as she reads, and her brow is gently furrowed. Her braid hangs over one shoulder, and her hand comes up occasionally, stroking it absentmindedly. Percy’s head is bent as well, but Vax can see the sidelong glances he occasionally gives Vex. The light of the fire reflects off both their dark heads. 

“Oh,” says Vex, when she finishes the passage. “I think I understand.” 

She lifts her head and looks at Vax. “Do you remember Madame Irinska?”

Vax nods, and at Percy’s curious look, says, “One of our tutors at Syngorn. Very dry. Fire hazard dry.” 

Vex snorts. “She taught us grammar.” Her finger finds a line in the text. “This bit – it’s talking about a battle that happened, um, three thousand years ago? But it’s not very well-recorded. So the line, it’s not, it’s not metaphorical. The tense is, um, it’s when they aren’t sure what happened. It’s not used very often. It’s considered a little archaic.”

“Well, it’s a very old book,” says Percy. “We don’t get many books in Elvish all the way up here.” 

Vex nods and continues reading. She pauses every now and then to explain a line or a passage or a word, or to respond to a question of Percy’s. Percy’s eyes are on her more often than they are on the book. Vax watches this without letting himself feel any particular way about. It’s natural his sister be stared at. She’s beautiful. He breaks in occasionally, when he can add to whatever Vex is saying, or when he wants to answer something before Vex does. But mostly he’s content to sit across from them, watching them, listening to the lilt of their voices, warm and drowsy by the fire. He falls asleep like that, peaceful and at-ease. 

***

To Vax’s relief, it’s cloudy all the next day. There’s no chance of seeing the aurora. And, with the castle abuzz with preparations for Winter’s Crest, it’s surprisingly easy to live in Whitestone undiscovered. Percy has few responsibilities – “I’m the third child,” he explains with a shrug, on their first morning. “It’s not as important for me to learn all that governing nonsense.” – but lessons with his tutor and some family duties keep him away. 

It’s plenty of space for Vex and Vax to do the exploring they need, and it’s easy work for Vax to steal them servants’ livery, should stealth ever fail them, and even easier work to steal some of Percy’s paper and ink for their map. The castle is large, full of hidden passages and empty rooms. Even with as large a family as the de Rolos apparently are, whole corridors and floors seem all but empty and echo with Vex and Vax’s steps. 

Some, however, are much more crowded, and much harder to get access to. 

“Where do you think the treasury is?” asks Vex, on their first day, when they’ve found a window seat in an empty hall with views of the town below. They watch servants and guards and townspeople toil up and down the hill, preparing for Winter’s Crest. 

“Somewhere far from sneaky thieves like you, Stubby,” says Vax. He tosses her an apple, which she catches with ease. Percy keeps them well-stocked with food. 

Vex snorts. “You’re the thief, brother.” 

Vax raises one lazy shoulder in acknowledgement. 

“How else would I support you?” he asks. 

Vex smiles faintly, but doesn’t give him the laugh he was hoping for. She examines her apple for a moment and then says, over-bright, over-arch, “Maybe if we found the treasury, you wouldn’t need to be a thief any more, or work for the Clasp.” 

“You’d really steal from Percival’s family like that?” asks Vax, so he doesn’t have to answer the question. He’ll escape the Clasp someday, he tells himself. He doesn’t need Vex to tell him they’re bad news, but he knows he’s not ready to give them the slip yet. 

“I highly doubt they’d notice. And I think they’d miss whatever we took much less than whatever it is the Clasp is planning on stealing,” says Vex. 

She stands, and tosses the apple back to Vax. She hasn’t taken a bite. 

***

That night, Vax and Vex sleep in a room just off of Percy’s workshop. He convinces a couple servants to bring a bed down. Vax doesn’t ask why Percy hasn’t just told his family about them. Two half-elven bastards of a Syngorn diplomat are likely interesting and well-bred enough to be guests of the de Rolos, but it’s obvious – from the workshop, from Percy’s cramped handwriting on all his designs, from the slight flush of excitement he has around them – that Percy likes secrets. 

Vax understands; he likes secrets, too. 

“How did you get them to do that?” asks Vex, once the bed has been installed and the servants dismissed and it’s safe for Vex and Vax to return. 

Percy laughs at the question and then looks surprised when he realizes it’s serious. 

“They’re servants. I don’t have to explain.”

“What if they’re suspicious?” asks Vax. “And ask your parents?”

“They wouldn’t dare approach my parents about something so trivial,” says Percy dismissively. “They might gossip amongst themselves, but I suppose they’ll just believe I grew tired of falling asleep on my workbench and wanted something more comfortable down here.” 

“You fall asleep at your workbench?” asks Vex, laughing. Vax is glad for the change of subject; he’s already realized that Percy sometimes speaks about people as if they have as much soul as the automatons he creates. 

The bed is soft and wide, a continent of furs and silks and more luxurious even than what Vax and Vex had grown accustomed to in Syngorn, luxury beyond what someone like their mother could ever have imagined. Mostly, though, Vax is grateful for it. Whitestone is cold, and the castle seems even colder sometimes than the outside air. Percy’s workplace has a fireplace, but the fire is usually banked by the time he returns to his personal rooms near his family’s. The chill sets on quickly then. 

That first night in the bed, Vax pulls Vex against his side and she goes willingly, cuddling against him with only a small snort of amusement. 

“Why do you think the Clasp wants this map, anyway?” she asks, after a warm and pleasant lull. 

Vax hesitates before answering. Since their earlier conversation, he’s been having doubts himself. 

“They probably just want to steal something here.” 

Vex hums, skeptical. “Wouldn’t they have told you what it was so we could keep an eye out for it? Or let you know what it was so _you_ could steal it.” 

“Or maybe they didn’t want me taking it for myself,” snaps Vax. “If it’s something really powerful.”

“Well, we don’t have to talk about it now if you’re going to be so cross!”

Vax says nothing, merely drags his pillow over his head. Vex punches him once, in the kidney, and he flinches but doesn’t otherwise respond. After a moment, he hears her sniff and feels the bed shift as she rolls onto her side. 

Despite the bed’s comfort, he sleeps poorly that night. 

***

He slips out of bed early the next morning and finds Percy, true to his word, asleep at his bench. He’s in his pajamas, so he must have come back in the middle of the night. He still has his glasses on, and one of his sleeves has been dipped in ink. His head rests on a sheet of paper covered in his tiny, cramped handwriting and more of his marvelous designs. Vex can see that some of the words and pictures have rubbed off on Percy’s face. 

A sudden fondness tugs at Vax’s gut. Percy looks so _young_ , and not in the way that annoys him. On impulse, he strides across the room and kisses Percy on his cheek. 

“Good morning, Percival,” he sings into his ear. 

Percy startles awake with a small cry and Vax jumps away just in time to avoid a bloody noise. 

“Oh,” says Percy, when he realizes who woke him. He adjusts his glasses and blinks fuzzily. “Vax. Good morning. You’re up early.” He glances at the window and amends himself, “I think.” 

“It’s early,” says Vax. He smiles. “What were you working on?” 

Percy looks down at his scroll and smooths it down. 

“Flight,” he says abstractly. 

Vax waits patiently, but it soon becomes obvious he’ll get no more. 

“Well,” he says. He clasps Percy on the shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

“Where are you going?” asks Percy.

“Ah – exploring.” Vax gives him a bemused look. “You don’t expect Vex’ahlia and me to spend all our time cooped up in these two rooms, do you?” 

“No, I suppose not,” says Percy. His gaze seems to sharpen and he looks Vax over critically. “And you’ve stolen a servant’s uniform, I see. You _are_ clever.” 

Vax grins and gestures at Percy’s designs. “Not nearly so clever as you, Percy, and not nearly so clever as I need to be.” 

“That’s the first true thing I’ve heard you say in a week,” says Vex, emerging from the room with a yawn. She smiles radiantly at Percy and sticks out her tongue at Vax. 

Percy smiles back at her. “Excluding what the two of you told me yesterday, I should hope.” 

“Of course,” says Vax smoothly. He doesn’t even bother to give Vex a warning look; he can already tell she’s realized her mistake. “You’ll have to forgive my sister. She’s insane.”

Percy looks between them and laughs. 

“Do you ever have a kind word for each other?” 

“Never,” declares Vax firmly, and he moves to Vex and pulls her tight against him. She hugs him with a long-suffering sigh. 

“It’s just hard,” explains Vex. “If his ego gets any bigger, he’ll blow away, and then I’ll be alone.” 

“I empathize,” says Percy. The corner of his mouth twitches. 

“With being alone, or with being insufferably arrogant?” asks Vex, and Vax barks with laughter. 

Percy just shakes his head and changes the subject. 

“I was hoping,” he says brightly, “that I might get us all breakfast, and then two you might help me with some history this morning. And then perhaps we can go exploring. Together.” 

Vex and Vax exchange a look and then a nod. It sounds like a good morning to them. 

***

It remains cloudy all that week, sparing Vex and Vax from having to make further excuses for staying in Whitestone. They quickly develop a routine. When Percy is busy, Vax and Vex explore and work on their map. When Percy isn’t, he’s with them. They help him with his studies, or discuss what he’s read, or explore together – Percy can get them access to everywhere they’re not supposed to be – or just sit in peaceful silence, while Percy tinkers or reads. It’s more free time than Vax knows what to do, more safe than he’s felt in a long time. He can tell Vex feels the same. She hums often, smiles more honestly. And Percy seems to fit with them and accept them; they fall into the easy camaraderie of co-conspirators, something about being hidden turning everything they do into a delight, a heady adventure. Percy is occasionally very funny in addition to being very smart, and Vax finds – almost against his will – that he _likes_ him. 

It’s a feeling that only solidifies when Vex laughs too loudly at something Percy has said – laughs too loudly and touches his arm, Vex’s friendliness never far from her survival instinct – and Percy responds by saying, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Do what?” asks Vex lightly, her hand still on Percy’s arm. 

Vax sits up a little straighter in his own chair. He’s been half-dozing, half-reading by the fire, but Percy’s tone has caught his attention. 

Percy looks quite intently at Vex, straightforward though bemused, and Vax feels for a moment like he’s intruding. Vex turns red beneath that honest gaze. 

“You don’t have to pretend to like me more than you do,” says Percy. “I like you quite a lot as it is.” 

***

Then, one afternoon, just two days before Winter’s Crest, Percy manages to offend them both.

“You’re both so erudite,” says Percy, almost absentmindedly, as they explain an obscure bit of Elven history. “It’s really impressive for someone of your background.” 

He says it like a compliment. 

“Gee, Vex,” says Vax into the chilly silence that follows. “What do you think a fancy word like erudite means?” 

Percy seems to immediately realize his error. His face goes very grave. 

“I don’t mean – it just sounds like you only had a few years of formal education.” 

“We know what you meant, Percy,” says Vex. Her voice is stiff and cold, and Percy shrinks at it, shoulders hunched, head lowered. 

“I really didn’t mean to offend you,” he says. 

Vax stands from where he’s been sitting beside Percy. He leans over and touches his sister’s shoulder. 

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.” 

To his surprise, Vex shakes her head. She’s looking at Percy, her face pale and set. 

“All right,” says Vax after a moment, stung. “I’ll just see myself out.” 

Neither says anything. Percy is too shame-faced, and Vex is still looking at him like a tensed hunting dog. Vax skulks out. But he pauses at the door, at the sound of Vex’s voice. She sounds on the verge of tears. 

“ – the kind of thing our father would have said,” says Vex. 

“I never meant it like that,” says Percy, earnest. No one has ever hurt him, Vax realizes in that moment. He has never lost anything. What somebody meant to do is actually meaningful to him. 

“It doesn’t matter how you meant it!” 

“I’m sorry. Really, I am, Vex. You – and Vax – but you, you’re like no one else I’ve ever met. You’re both so much _more_.” 

“More _what_?”

Vax has the same question. But Percy just falls to silence again. It becomes clear he won’t answer. Vax takes his leave. 

***

“Here,” says Percy the next morning. He thrusts a wrapped gift into Vex’s hands. His eyes are dark and redshot. He looks like he’s been up all night. 

“Oh,” says Vex. She takes the gift, blushing faintly. Vax eyes both the gift and Percy suspiciously. 

“It’s a little early for Winter’s Crest,” adds Vex. Her free hand hovers over the gift. She’s clearly eager to unwrap it. But her eyes rest uncertainly on Percy. 

“I want you to have it now. It’s not for Winter’s Crest,” says Percy. 

Vex nods, blushing. She opens the gift with a carefulness that belies her eagerness. 

“Oh,” she says. “Oh. It’s beautiful.”

Vax looks at her gift. It’s a small, metal bird, the wingspan as long as Vax’s hand and the body the size of his thumb. The wings are made of separate feathers, each one expertly ridged and beaten thin as silk. Two small golden stones wink from the bird’s eyes and its beak is long and slightly curved.

“It flies, too,” says Percy. His expression is pale with need, his mouth a thin line of worry. “I can show you.” 

Vex nods mutely and hands the bird back to Percy. Vax watches all this with narrowed eyes. He’s never seen Vex _speechless_ before. 

Percy holds the bird gently and turns it onto it’s back. Located at the base of its tail is a small switch. He touches the switch and the bird leaps suddenly to life, the wings beating with a dizzying speed, fast enough that they appear just a blur. Percy turns the bird back over and releases it. It zooms around the room, in an angular, darting pattern. 

Vex claps her hands and cries with delight, watching the bird’s movements. She rushes after it and catches it, turns it off, releases it again. 

Vax steps closer to Percy and says, low-voiced, “Where’s my gift, Percival?”

Percy flushes but he turns his head and looks back at Vax steadily. 

“I had the thought that being kind to your sister was the best way to earn your forgiveness, too.”

Vax laughs, because he’s true. But he’s still rankled enough that he doesn’t want to let Percy off that easily. 

“Two birds with one stone. That’s very efficient of you.” 

Percy looks appalled. 

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Vax! I’m trying to be your friend!” 

“I don’t need your friendship, Percival,” spits Vax. He suddenly, desperately wants a fight. 

Percy steps back. He’s probably never struck anyone in his life and he’s certainly never struck anyone who might hit back. But he squares his shoulders and looks at Vax with surprising sincerity. 

“Be that as it may,” he says, “it’s yours if you want it.” 

Vax can say nothing to that. He turns on his heel and walks away, his heart beating like the metal bird’s wings.

*** 

He returns that evening, an afternoon of exploration behind him. The map is almost complete, should be done only a few days after Winter’s Crest. It will be time to move on then. 

He’s just not sure Vex will want to, but he comforts himself with the knowledge his sister can’t stay hidden inside a stone castle forever. She’s a creature of the forest and the yielding earth. 

He opens the door to Percy’s workshop, still brooding. Percy and Vex spring apart immediately. Vax stands at the threshold, stunned, but, upon reflection not surprised. There’s a flush burning high in Vex’s face and her eyes sparkle. She can’t keep from smiling.

Vax could forgive Percy anything in that moment, looking at the happiness shining from his sister’s face. 

“There’s no need to stop on account of me,” he says, smirking. 

Vex blushes. 

“Perfect timing as usual, brother,” she sniffs and she darts past him, into the hallway. He half-turns to follow but she gives him a look that means he’s not to follow. And, for once, he’s in a mood to mind her. He turns back to the room. 

Percy remains behind. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at Vax, flustered. 

“I just want you to know,” he says. “I would never – I could never – hurt Vex. And I don’t – I don’t intend to hurt you either. I hope you realize that.”

Vax stares at him in astonishment. “Are you asking me if I’m okay with you kissing my sister?”

Percy flushes deeply red and nods. 

“Well, do you intend to make an honest woman out of her?” 

Percy’s mouth opens and then closes. 

“Quite frankly,” he finally answers, “I don’t know if anyone could make Vex entirely honest.” 

Vax snorts. 

“I’m the third child,” says Percy, after a pause. “It’s… it’s too early to discuss betrothal, really. But. I think, perhaps, my parents would be more understanding if _I_ made a non-traditional match.”

“With the half-elf bastard you have hidden away in the basement?” 

Vax doesn’t understand the wave of antipathy that suddenly rolls over him. He’s both irritated that Percy would not immediately want to marry Vex and whisk her away to the life of ease she deserves, and irritated that someone might take Vex away from him. 

Percy sets his jaw. “Your father’s an ambassador of Syngorn. That’s quite prestigious. Not nobility, no. But prestigious.” 

Vax stands there, stunned. 

“Fuck you,” he spits. 

Percy raises his eyebrows and protests, “I’m merely saying it will make a potential match more palatable!” 

Vax realizes right then that the reason Percy has never needed to strike someone is not because he’s a noble. It’s because he’s able to use his words instead. 

“You don’t deserve her, de Rolo.”

Percy smiles thinly, without humor. “No. I don’t. I realize that.”

Vax covers the distance between them quickly. He raises his hand to hit Percy, but Percy is quick – quicker than Vax would ever have believed – and he grabs Vax’s arm, stopping him. They stare at each other, each frozen. Percy’s eyes are wide and earnest. His hand is firm around Vax’s forearm. He’s taller than Vax, which is something Vax has always known abstractly, but which now is keenly obvious. 

“Believe me, Vax’ildan,” he says. He laughs faintly and slowly lowers Vax’s arm. “Believe me. I know. I know.” 

He lets go of Vax’s arm and takes a step back, expression expectant. 

Vax says nothing. He flees, in the direction of his sister. 

***

In the end, it’s Vex who finds him. Vax has returned to the window they found the first day, in a high tower in a rarely used corner of the castle. He had slunk past the ballroom on his way there, seen the door cracked and the room glittering in the darkness, prepared for a grand party only an evening hence. Once, Vex and Vax might have been welcome at such an evening. Once, they might have gone and hated every minute of it. 

And, yet, that will be all of Percy’s life – dances and balls and proper matches with women with names as long as his own. He broods on this as he sits in the window seat. He sees a few lights gleam in the town below, far away and warm-looking.

“Vax,” says Vex, a shadow that has detached itself from the wall. Vax barely saves his prides and avoids starting – it’s rare that Vex can get the jump on him. Vex runs her hand down his hair, quiet. 

“Yes?” he responds grudgingly. 

“Are you jealous? Don’t be jealous.” 

“What exactly would I be jealous of?” he says. There’s a pit of ice in his stomach that hasn’t gone away since his argument with Percy. “It’s not like _I_ want to kiss you.” 

Vex is silent, and he doesn’t turn to see her expression and learn what kind of silence it is. She runs her hands through his hair again, fingers tugging gently at the knots. The back of his neck prickles and tightens. 

“Do you want to kiss Percy?” asks Vex, quietly.

“What? _No_!” 

Vex leans forward and wraps her arms around Vax’s shoulders. She rests her chin on the top of his head. At the base of his skull, Vax can feel her heart beat. 

“You know you never have to lie to me, brother. Though, I think in this case, you’re lying to yourself.” 

“I am not lying to anyone!” snaps Vax, he jerks away from Vex. 

Vex looks at him patiently, and it’s on Vax’s tongue to tell her what Percy had said – that Percy only considers her a plausible match because of their _father_. But he can’t. She had looked so happy in that brief second he had seen her, happier than he has seen her in a very long time. His stomach twists with jealousy – and it is jealousy, he can admit that to himself. He’s just not sure what he’s jealous of. He could never envy Vex anything. But could he envy Percy should Vex choose him for always?

“Maybe I’m jealous of Percy,” he says quietly. The admission feels dangerous. It lies between them like an uncoiling snake. 

Vex hesitates before she responds, and when she does her voice is soft, questioning. 

“There’s nothing for you to be jealous of, Vax. You’ll always be my brother.” 

Vax laughs and it sounds hollow even to him. He feels unsteady. 

“I know,” he says, and then he reaches for her and tugs her close. He hugs her. Her arms lift immediately and she hugs him back, pressing her face into his shoulder. 

“I love you,” he tells her. 

Vex huffs a little laugh and squeezes him. “I love you, too.” 

***

He’s still in turmoil that night. He slips out of bed and then out of Percy’s workshop and then he freezes. Percy is up as well, pacing in the hallway. 

“Thinking up new projects?” says Vax. He tries to keep his voice light. 

“Vax,” blurts out Percy. He stops his pacing and peers at Vax earnestly. “There you are.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking for my sister?” asks Vax dryly. He keeps his distance, cautious. And then he adds, “Isn’t it rather _late_ to be looking for my sister?” 

“No, I.” Percy pauses. His throats works for a second before he speaks again. “I’m afraid I haven’t been a very good host to the both of you.” 

That honestly takes Vax by surprise, and it makes him feel suddenly, sharply guilty. Like him though they do, they’ve done little but lie to him, and he has in return, inept though he often is, done nothing but tried to make Vex happy. Vax crosses the space between them and clasps Percy’s hand. 

“Percival – you have been _extraordinarily_ kind to my sister and me. More than we deserve. Much more.”

Percy pulls his hand away, flushing in the way he usually does around Vex.

“It’s nothing. Really. I enjoy – I enjoy the company of you both.” 

Vax stares at him. He thinks – dizzingly – that he should confess everything, that he and Vex were only ever here to fool him. But he can’t. It is easier to let Percy believe the good he does of them, to leave the Clasp far behind them and forget the contract. Perhaps Vax could even convince Vex to return the advance. 

Percy stares back at him, eyes wide and a little wary behind his glasses. He is looking at Vax the way he might look at one of his particularly stubborn contraptions or a book he can only half-translate, like Vax is a challenge he’s committed to solving. 

Vax does the second most impulsive thing he can think of. 

He kisses Percy. 

Percy kisses back. 

It’s rough and intimate. Vax has kissed plenty of people, both male and female, before, some for the sheer pleasure of kissing them, and others because kissing – like anything else – can be a weapon. But none have been like this. It’s sharp and dangerous. Percy kisses harder than Vax would have thought and his hands grip Vax’s shoulders and dig deep. Vax thrills to the pain, his pulse quickening. 

Then Percy jerks away. 

“Your – Vex,” he says. His glasses are askew. His mouth is pink. 

Vax keeps his hands on him. 

“We share everything,” he blurts out, before he can pause to think about the truth of that statement. Should it be true even for this? 

Percy stares at him, then kisses him again. 

***

When Vax returns, he sees the glitter of his sister’s eyes in the dark. But she says nothing as he climbs into bed beside her. 

Neither does he. 

***

Winter’s Crest arrives with little fanfare. Percy is gone most of the day, busy with his family’s festivities, and the twins have nothing to give each other they haven’t already. Vax says nothing about kissing Percy. Nor does Vex, though the way she looks at him in the morning – thoughtful, calculating – makes him squirm with guilt. She must know. They pass the day idly, ignoring the work they have to do on the map. 

“I miss the woods,” says Vex that evening. She flings herself dramatically across the bed. “I’ve been stuck inside for so long.” 

“You’ll freeze your tits off if you go outside in this weather.” 

Vex sits up, amused. “Sorry. Freeze my what off?”

He laughs. “Fuck off.”

She cups her breasts and makes a face at him. 

“I didn’t realize you cared about the girls so much.” 

“ _Fuck off!_ ” 

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” 

Percy stands in the doorway, his expression bemused, and holding something behind his back. Vex drops her hands to her sides immediately. 

“I was about to ask,” he says, “if you all wanted to celebrate Winter’s Crest with me.” 

They stare at him. 

“Don’t you have the ball?” asks Vex. 

Percy grins. “No one’s going to miss the third child, _and_ – ” the grin gets wider – “it’s supposed to be quite the clear night.”

He reveals what he’s holding behind his back at that moment – two dark bottles of liquor. 

“I’ve also brought gifts.” 

Vax hoots and Vex claps her hands together and cries with delight. 

“We’d love to,” says Vax, grinning, and he and Vex start layering up. 

***

The sky is impossible. Swathes of green and yellow and pink drape and glimmer across it, winding like rivers, dripping like paint. Vex gasps, clutching her hands to her heart. Her face is lit by the glow. The colors flicker across the landscape of her face, revealing new angles, new valleys, new shadows, all of them beautiful. Percy’s glasses reflect the sky, and his smile is soft and open. He looks happy and relaxed in a way Vax has never seen. Vax watches them both, as entranced by their expressions as they are by the sky.

“There are theories,” says Percy, into that hushed and reverence silence. “That the aurora is caused because the fabric of the world up here is thinner, and really we’re seeing a glimpse of a different plane. The astral plane. It’s supposed to be particularly thin on nights like the Winter’s Crest.” 

“Percy?” says Vax. 

Percy looks at him. He blinks owlishly from behind his glasses. 

“Yes?” 

“Shut up.” 

Vex laughs loudly and Vax beams. Percy laughs too, shaking his head. He leans over and Vax and Vex both, with one movement, lean back against him. He’s solid enough for them both. He can feel Percy’s body tense and then relax and he drapes his arms around them both. They’re sitting on a fallen log, far from the castle and close to the edge of the dark forest that sweeps away from Whitestone Castle and to the north. The air smells of pine and something crackling, faintly electric that must be the sweeping, jewel-toned lights. 

They sit like that, until the lights eventually fade, and the brilliant star-strewn mantle of the sky takes their place, the sky a pure and dark and total black. Vax reaches into his cloak then and produces Percy’s two bottles of liquor. 

Percy laughs when he sees them. “How did you get those off me?”

“Nicked them,” says Vax proudly, and with a wink even Vex should be able to admire. “Now, can we get a fire started?” 

“Vax, you're terrible!” says Vex, but she’s already on her feet and has started gathering wood. Percy helps her clumsily. Survival is obviously much more in Vex’s wheelhouse than his. 

Soon, though, they have a blazing fire going. Vex and Vax arrange themselves on one log, and Percy on another. He turns red at Vex’s suggestion they make room for him to join. Vax’s waggled eyebrows probably have something to do with his refusal, since they all three sat quite comfortably there during the aurora. The liquor Percy brought them is sharp and astringent, with a green, faintly sweet note that reminds Vax of licorice and spring. 

The fire and their furs and the liquor keep them warm. Vax feels his face go flush with heat and alcohol and sees his sister’s do the same. 

“You know, Percy,” she says, once the first bottle has been finished and the second one well-started on. “I learned something very interesting about my brother the other day.”

Percy’s eyebrows go very high, and Vax goes very still. “What was that?”

“That you kissed him!” she cries, pointing the bottle at Percy. “You’ve kissed both of us!” 

She giggles and collapses against Vax’s side. He shifts slightly and puts his arm around her shoulders, though his heart has tightened painfully. She is a comforting and familiar weight, but the alcohol and the starlight must stir something inside him because suddenly he burns at the intimate press of her body against his. He turns his head away from her and smiles at Percy. In the flickering firelight, it is hard to tell if Percy is blushing, but Vax can only assume he is. 

“Yes, Percival. Tell us. Who’s the better kisser?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourselves?” 

Percy instantly looks astonished at his own boldness. Vax’s heart skips double-hard. 

“I didn’t,” says Percy, backtracking immediately. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You have more of a bite than I thought,” says Vax, dark and teasing to cover his own spinning emotions. Vex has said nothing since her first outburst, and, pressed against his side, has gone very still. 

Vax really has shared everything with Vex, and he loves her with a strength that overpowers reason, overpowers even the darkness that sings sweetly inside him. He touches her hair, dark and sleek as his own. He’s always known she was beautiful, though that has always felt vain to say, mirror as she is to him. 

“What do you say, Vex?” he asks. His voice falters. 

Vex makes a small _hmmph_ noise and tilts her head haughtily. 

“That’s _disgusting_ ,” she says, but her voice falters. 

A numbness settles over Vax. It’s a familiar feeling of remove that sweeps over him sometimes once he settles on some life-altering, ruinous course of action. It was with that clinical coolness that he had struck his father at their last meeting. It is with that remote distance that he seems to watch himself move his hand from Vex’s hair to her cheek and bring his other hand up so that he cups her face. 

Vex shivers and her eyelashes tremble, as obviously inside her own body as Vax is currently outside his. She brings her hands up and wraps them around his wrists. 

She kisses Vax, tentative, laughing nervously like it’s a poorly thought out joke. 

Vax crashes back into himself and he becomes instantly, painfully aware of the press of his sister’s mouth, her warm hands, callused where they hold her bow, on his wrists, the tickle of her hair against his face. He surges forward so that she ends up more fully in his lap and holds her face firmly. He deepens the kiss. Vex trembles again and then she moans. She shifts and hugs his hips with her legs. The noise and movement pierce Vax. 

Percy curses. 

Vax and Vex both spring apart. The world seems to spin for Vax, but he looks at Percy. Percy’s eyes are huge, his mouth slightly agape. 

“Sorry!” he says, flustered, once he’s realized both twins are looking at him. Vax can’t look at his sister at this moment. Can’t bear to see if she is already regretting crossing this line. So he keeps his eyes on Percy instead. 

Percy laughs, a desperate, breathless, joyful noise. 

“The two of you… You have no idea how hard it is to be around the both of you all the time.” 

Vex makes a funny noise that Vax belatedly realizes is a laugh. He glances at her, and she glances back, then smiles shyly. Vax breathes out, relieved. Vex holds her hand out to Percy. 

“You don’t have to be over there all by yourself, you know,” she says, equal parts coquettish and bold. 

Percy inhales piercingly and then stands. He drinks deeply from the bottle and then sets it down. 

He takes Vex’s hand and finally crosses over to the twins. He kneels down in the snow between them. Vex leans down first and kisses him. Vax watches the firelight move over their faces, and sees the slow, eager shifts of their mouth and tongues. Percy makes a small, desperate noise, like a wounded man. Vax cups the back of his neck and squeezes gently. He understands. 

Finally, Vex breaks away, flushed and victorious. Vax spares the time to give her braid a quick tug, and then, before Percy can recover, leans down and kisses him, too. His mouth is wet from the liquor and from Vex and he sighs as Vax kisses him, a release of air that Vax feels himself take in, swallow, keep. He feels one of Vex’s hands slide through his hair and sees the other rest on Percy’s shoulder. He moans. 

***

They stagger back to the castle, drunk and flushed and giggling. The stars dance and tilt above them, and their steps form a curling path in the snow. Vax sees his sister’s neck, his sister’s mouth, Percy’s eyes, bright behind his glasses, Percy’s clever hands, Percy and Vex together, apart, together. 

They all three fall into the bed. 

***

They wake up very warm, Percy passed out between them. Vex eyes him sleepily, just a sliver of her face visible as she lifts it from the pillow. 

“Good morning,” Vax mouths at her. His head hurts and his mouth is sour. He feels cautious and strange, and images from last night dance and collide in his head. He kissed Vex. He did more than kiss Vex, and, strangest of all, he feels no guilt for it, only the desire to do it again.

“Good morning,” she mouths back. She rolls onto her back and sits up, her eyes on Vax. 

Carefully, Vax leans across Percy and kisses her. Her mouth is soft and smiling beneath his. She giggles once and it turns into a whimper when Vax bites her lower lip as a reprimand. His stomach turns liquid and hot, and Vex bites back, a little harder. He moans. He’s hard just from waking and the bite only makes his need sharper, more insistent. 

“It’s rude not to wait for everyone,” mumbles Percy groggily. 

Vax laughs and leans down. He kisses Percy, too. 

They spend the day in bed together. Percy leaves once to find food, and Vex and Vax both reward him richly for his efforts. 

They keep kissing. They fall asleep. They wake up again. 

***

The man is twice their age and thin. His skin seems almost gray – likely some orc in the lineage – and a scar crosses from one eyebrow to his cheek. Vax frowns at him through the keyhole. He and Vex are in one of the lower levels. They’re mapping has lain by the wayside for days. They’ve both been too distracted – and, though neither has admitted though both know – too guilty to spend much time on their project. But they still enjoy exploring when Percy is busy. It really is too much to be asked to stay inside Percy’s workshop and their adjoining bedroom, and Percy has, to his credit, not asked that of them. 

“I know that man,” says Vax, straightening up. 

“Probably because you’ve seen him around,” says Vex. “He’s wearing Whitestone livery.” 

Vax shakes his head. “No. Somewhere else. He’s not from here. I know that much.” 

The man’s face tugs at his brain, and then it clicks. 

“That’s Odo Fenthrush!”

He looks through the keyhole again and that confirms it for him. Odo is leaning over a different keyhole himself, examining it with a thief’s keen eye. Vax had never spoken to the man, but he’s seen him at a distance, heard rumors that he was a bad man to cross, though, as far as Vax can tell, Odo occupies no official position within the Clasp’s hierarchy. 

Not that the Clasp necessarily wants even its own men to know who exactly sits within its hierarchy. 

“Who?”

“He works for the Clasp!” 

“Oh!” Vex’s eyes go very large. “You don’t think he’s…” 

“Here to finish what we started? I do.” 

Vex wrinkles her nose. “Why do you always have to say things in the most dramatic way possible?” 

But she’s biting her lip, clearly just as concerned as Vax is.

“We have to stop him,” says Vax. 

“And we should tell Percy,” says Vex firmly.

Vax clenches his jaw. He’s well of the opinion what Percy doesn’t know won’t hurt them. But that’s a matter for another time. He swings the door open, to Vex’s obvious dismay. 

“Vax!” she hisses, but Odo has heard them. He turns, and his eyes go briefly wide and then his mouth cracks open in an ugly grin. He has yellow teeth. They contrast sharply with his gray skin. 

“I had no idea you’d be so easy to find, Vax’ildan.” He leers at the both of them. “And how sweet. You’ve brought your sister, too.”

“What are you doing here?” demands Vax. He bristles, trying to go for professionally offended. “The Clasp gave me this job.” 

Odo laughs. “Don’t worry your pretty head. I’m not here to ‘map the castle’. That’s not needed any more. They found an inside man.” 

“An inside man?” says Vex, alarmed. “Who?” 

Odo laughs again, an ugly, hacking laugh. Vax realizes suddenly, with alarm, that he’s allowed Odo to close distance with him.

He sneers. “Like I’d tell you even if I knew.” 

Vax frowns. “You’ve come a long way just to tell me I’m not needed.” 

“Well, that’s the thing,” says Odo. He grins, showing off his long, yellow teeth once more. “The other thing I was told was that the people behind this gig didn’t want any loose ends lying around.” 

It’s then Vax remembers the other rumor about Odo, the reason Odo is a bad man to cross: he mainly takes assassin gigs. 

Vax remembers just in time – he’s able to dart out of the way as Odo brings a dagger up. The hilt glances off Vax’s shoulder, hard enough to bruise, but much preferred to drawing blood. He grabs Odo’s arm and yanks, using the force of the other man’s momentum to send him tumbling to the ground. 

Odo is quick, though, and graceful. He rolls expertly and springs to his feet. This time, he faces Vex. She retreats backwards. She’s weaponless, Vax realizes with a start. She never carries anything inside the castle. He rushes to get between her and Odo, and Odo’s next thrust catches him, slicing into the meat of his arm. He grunts with pain and gets his own dagger out, swings at Odo in response. His blade hits only air. He swears. 

Odo laughs at him, and a second dagger appears in his other hand. He advances, driving Vax back, and slashes with both daggers. Vax dodges, unable to get an attack in of his own, and Odo draws blood – the tip of one dagger scoring a line across Vax’s cheek. 

Then something strikes Odo in the face. Something Vex must have thrown. It’s too swift for Vax to tell what it is, but it seems to stun Odo and his next swing is wild. Vax ducks under his arm and strikes true. 

He sinks his blade in and up into Odo’s chest. Odo gasps and Vax feels the man’s body go tense and then slack as he keeps sliding his blade in, beneath the ribcage, to the heart. The roaring sound of the sea is in Vax’s ears, and his vision is red-tinged, black all around. Odo’s dying word is a bloody gurgle, and he spits a bloody froth into Vax’s face. Vax spits back, and then he yanks his blade out and steps back. Odo’s body tumbles to the ground. 

Besides it, Vax sees the crumpled metal body of Vex’s bird. 

***

They hide the body in an unused closet, then, they burn their papers. 

***

Percy is free from lessons with his tutor that afternoon – he’s been free often lately, his tutor apparently busy with a project of his own. Percy’s cheerful and well-dressed. He had a breakthrough the night before on one of his projects, has a dinner with exciting new guests tonight. It makes Vax’s stomach cramp with pain to see him so happy. 

“Apparently they’ve brought quite the library,” Percy tells them, after he kisses them both. He adjusts something miniscule on his coat and beams at them. 

“Percy, we have to tell you something,” says Vex. 

“What is it?” asks Percy, the smile fading slowly from his face as he looks between the two of them. He finds the bandage wrapped around Vax’s arm, the red cut across Vax’s face. “What happened? Are you two all right” 

“Percy, you must know we never meant to hurt you,” says Vex. 

“And yet,” says Percy, expression entirely somber now, “it sounds as if you have.”

“We weren’t here by chance or because we wanted to see the aurora,” says Vex, quiet, ashamed. 

Percy says nothing, too smart to ask the obvious question. He merely waits. 

“We’re here because I had a job,” says Vax. His voice is rough and wild even to his own ears. “Do you know about an organization called the Clasp?”

Percy hesitates before answering. “They’re a criminal outfit, I believe. A thieves’ guild.” 

Vax nods. “Essentially, yes. And I… work for them. I’m a thief. I was hired to come to Whitestone and map it.” 

Vex trips over the end of Vax’s sentence with her own words. “But everything else we told you was true, Percy. Everything about our past. We’ve just been trying to survive.” 

Percy sinks into one of the armchairs. He drags a hand across his face and laughs breathlessly, face white with shock. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It did always seem too good to be true.”

Vax flinches at his words, and waits, tensed, for the explosion. It doesn’t come. Percy just sits there in silence, stunned. Finally, Vax ventures to speak again. 

“We decided not to go through with it, though. But the Clasp sent a man up to tell us we were no longer needed. He – we were. He attacked us this afternoon, to tie up loose ends. That’s why I have these.” He gestures at his wounds. 

Percy stares at him. He seems, for once in his life, uncomprehending. 

“Why would someone need a map of Whitestone?” he says. 

“I wasn’t told,” says Vax. “And I didn’t ask.”

He curses himself for the flimsiness of the words. He’s speaking the truth, but he has no reason for Percy to believe him. 

“He – the man from the Clasp – he said they have an inside man, now,” says Vex. She makes a sound like an arrow-struck bird and drops to her knees in front of Percy. She takes his hand. “We’re so sorry. We didn’t know. We didn’t know _you_.”

Percy pulls his hand away. 

“Please get up, Vex,” he says. His voice is tired. 

Unsteadily, Vex rises to her feet. Vax puts his arm around her, holds her. They look at Percy. The explosion still does not come. 

“You should leave,” he says eventually. His voice has a distant, academic tone. “You don’t have to tonight. It’s quite cold. I’ll give you provisions and money and you can set out tomorrow. I won’t have you freeze to death.” 

Vax flushes angrily – it’s easier to be angry at Percy’s charity than it is to be angry at himself.

“We don’t need your pity,” he snarls. 

Percy’s eyes go flat and cold. He stands.

“No, and I don’t need yours either.” 

He strides from the room. Vex sinks into the chair he leaves, expression shattered. Vax looks at his sister and tries to speak. There’s nothing he can say. He begins to pack. 

***

They say nothing to each other for the rest of the evening, until, late that night, they hear the sound of someone sobbing in the hall. It’s a young girl’s voice. Vex rises immediately, flying to the door. Vax is just behind her. He stills her hand as it goes to the handle. 

“That’s not Percy,” he hisses. 

“She sounds upset,” hisses Vex back. “And it’s not like we’re here much longer _anyway_.” 

Vax says nothing for a second, listening. Upset might even be an understatement. Whoever is crying is both trying not to cry loudly and failing at it. He hears the girl gulp and whimper, a tripping whine of, “no, no, no, no.” 

“We should help her!” insists Vex, and Vax can’t argue. He releases Vex’s hand and she opens the door. Crouched at the end of the hall, wild-eyed, dress torn, is a young girl. 

She looks like Percy, and her dress, though ruined, is finely made. She must be one of his sisters. She jerks to her feet at the sound of the door opening. Her hands scrabble wildly – uselessly – for something to protect her. 

“It’s okay!” says Vex, putting her hands up. “We’re friends of Percy’s. We’re not going to hurt you.” 

At that, the girl laughs maniacally and she collapses to the ground. She shakes helplessly, like a person trapped in the cold. Her hair is ragged, strips of it hanging down from the nest her updo has become. Her eyes are wide but don’t seem to see. There is blood all down her dress, already dried to brown.

“Dear, uh, Cassandra?” chances Vex, still approaching. It’s a good guess. Percy had told them his youngest sister was named Cassandra and this girl is young indeed. 

At the name, the girl goes quiet. She gulps and nods and then shrieks. “I knew Percy was hiding something!” 

She starts to laugh again, hysterical. 

“Darling,” coos Vex. She shoots Vax a terrified glance. He can see that she is trembling. But she reaches the younger girl and attempts to smooth down her hair. 

“Darling, we want to help you. But we need your help first. What happened? Where is Percy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. They’re all dead. We were attacked. They’re all _dead_ ,” moans Cassandra. She rocks back and forth. Vex puts her arms around her and shushes her gently. 

Vex looks stricken, and Vax feels that he must be her mirror. Percy can’t be dead. Especially not when it could be their fault.

Especially not when he hasn’t forgiven them. 

“Attacked when?” asks Vex. “Here? Oh, Cassandra, darling, are you hurt? Are you all right?” 

She looks Cassandra over for injuries, but seems to find none. Whoever’s blood is on her is not her own, and at the girl’s quiet sobs of, “Mother, mother,” Vax has a sick sense of whose blood it is. 

He touches her shoulders gently. He does not want to traumatize this child more, but his head and stomach are spinning. They were attacked? When? He and Vex had heard nothing. 

“Did you see Percy die?” he asks. 

Vex whimpers at his words. Cassandra hesitates; her eyes roll back in her head. Vax hates that he’s asked her to relive what’s happened. He and Vex wait, both breathless. 

Finally, Cassandra shakes her head, suddenly mute. 

“If he were alive, where would he be?” he asks next. But he already knows the answer. He found the dungeons once, when exploring by himself. They had seemed out of use, but they were dungeons all the same. 

Vex seems to have the same thought. She looks at him, pale. 

“We have to find him,” she says. 

Vax nods. He leans down and scoops Cassandra up, then sets her on her feet. 

“We’re going to rescue Percy,” he tells her, and puts as much strength and certainty into the words as he can manage. “And then we’re all going to escape. Okay?”

Cassandra doesn’t respond, the last act of recollection enough to undo her completely. She stares listlessly ahead. 

Vax is weirdly thankful he took the time to pack that afternoon. It’s easy work to gather their packs and weapons. Vex holds her bow in one hand and takes Cassandra’s arm in the other. They creep through the castle, taking the hidden ways now well familiar to them. They hear, occasionally, the sounds of fighting, and, once, the horrible sounds of a man dying. They cannot stop. 

The dungeons are as gloomy as Vax remembers, but now, they’re in use, lit torches mounted to the wall and sputtering black smoke. The three of them enter through a decrepit passageway, Cassandra still catatonic and trailing them. At one end of the hall, Vax makes out a massive, hulking form. Whoever it is does not seem to see them, thankfully. And the torch smoke, though it stinks of rancid animal fat, gives him a little more cover in which to skulk. 

Vax edges forward cautiously, leaving Vex and Cassandra to cover him. He doesn’t have to go far. In one of the cells, he spots a still shape. 

Percy. 

Percy lies motionless, blood pooled beneath him. His glasses are broken on his face. 

But he has to be alive, thinks Vax desperately. They wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of putting him in a prison cell if he weren’t. 

“Keep an eye on Big Bertha over there,” mutters Vax, circling back to Vex and Cassandra. “I’m going in.” 

He points to where Percy lies. Vex half-gasps, but turns it into a steadying breath and nods. Her eyes go sharp, and she drops to a knee and draws her bow, an arrow trained on the guard’s back. 

Vax makes a quick diagonal movement to Percy’s cell. He hears a small scuffle behind him but doesn’t turn to look. He has to trust Vex to handle it.

He kneels by the lock on Percy’s cell. His hands are shaking, and he nearly drops his thieves’ tools as he takes them out. He curses silently and presses his forehead against the cool, rough metal of the bars for a second, eyes closed. He can’t think about Percy. He just has to focus on the lock. 

He opens his eyes and tries the lock, but his hands still shake, too badly to work. Panic throttles him. They’ll all be caught soon. They don’t have _time_ for Vax to fuck up, like he has always fucked up, to not be good enough to not – 

“Let me,” says a calm voice. 

Vax jerks away as Cassandra crouches besides him. Her face has lost its emptiness and instead taken on a bleak and terrible calm. She is beyond shock now. She takes the picks from Vax and sets to work on the lock with grim intent. Vax watches and realizes Percy is not the only de Rolo sibling with hidden talents. He wonders what the other siblings can do. He wonders if any of them are still alive. 

With a small click, the lock springs open. Cassandra opens the cell door and dashes inside. 

“Percy,” she says, shaking her brother’s shoulder. “Percy. Wake up.”

For a second, nothing but an awful silence. And then Percy moans. Cassandra immediately clasps her hand over his mouth. 

“You can't,” she says quietly. “We have to go. Percy, you have to stand up.” 

Percy moans again, though the sound is muffled this time. Vax enters the cell as well. He hooks his arms under Percy’s and hauls him up. Percy wobbles unsteadily but stands. He says nothing, and his eyes have the mad whiteness of a terrified animal. 

“We have to go, Percy,” says Vax, as kindly as he can manage. 

Cassandra tugs on Percy’s arm, and she leads him towards Vex. Vex nearly drops her bow at the site of Percy, and she rises to her feet and hugs him tightly. Percy just stands there, as shocked as his sister was. Vex lets him go with a gentle noise and once more picks up her bow. 

It’s then that their luck runs out. The guard turns and Vax makes out the face of a female goliath and then hears her shout. 

“Halt!”

All four of them bolt, dashing madly down the passageway. Percy's wounds, it seems, are superficial enough that he's able to keep up. If they can just get back to Percy’s workshop, thinks Vax, they can make it outside and flee to safety. Surely once the town discovers what’s happened, the people will rise up. He hears the heavy tread of the goliath behind them. Vex turns once and sends off an arrow. There’s a gratifying, meaty thunk and a bellow of pain as it hits its target. But the goliath doesn’t seem to slow. The sound of more footsteps joins hers. Vax’s side burns with pain. He’s gasping. The passage goes up to the main body of the castle. They make it to the end, Vax in the lead. They’re in the corridor above Percy’s workshop. From the corner of his eye, he sees Cassandra hesitate. 

“Downstairs!” he barks at her. The door behind them swings open, the goliath and the other guards once more at their heels. 

Vax redoubles his efforts to run, heading to the stairs. A man pops up in front of him, armed with an axe, and wearing unfamiliar livery. He doesn’t think, just throws a dagger that hits the man in the eye, and the man drops with a guttural cry. 

Vax has no time to grab the dagger, no time to realize that's the second man he's killed today. He keeps running, checking only to make sure the other three are with him. They make it to the stairs and down, though he hears Vex swear as she nearly trips, and his blood freezes entirely until he turns and sees that she’s righted herself, is still running, is ushering Percy and Cassandra ahead. 

At the bottom of the stairs, he heads immediately to that secret passage of their first day. They don’t know about this, he prays, though he believes that, while there are gods, no one is listening. 

They cannot know about this. 

He yanks open the door and lets the other three run in past him, then shuts and locks the door behind him. He can only, helplessly, pray again that they shut the door before their pursuers saw where they went. They all four continue sprinting. Down the earthen hall, towards freedom. Cassandra trips once, over the hem of her dress, and Vax grabs her by the back of her collar and physically drags her a few steps before she regains her footing. 

They crash out into a velvet night. It’s snowing gently, absurdly calm and peaceful. Percy is in the lead, running full out, headed towards the dark line of the woods. The others must follow. Vax keeps Cassandra and Vex ahead of him. He’ll stay and fight, he decides, should their pursuers close the gap. 

They run, and then, with a scream, Cassandra falls, pierced twice. Her body tumbles to a halt, broken. Vex, ahead by some yards, shrieks in horror and turns. 

Percy keeps running. 

“Vex!” shouts Vax. The second arrow had passed just over his shoulder and he had watched in horror as it struck its target. Cassandra lays unmoving. The snow beneath her is already darkening with her blood. Though he’d intended to fight, Vax can’t take on archers by himself.

“We can’t just leave her!” yells Vex. She’s already drawn her bow. Her face is still and wet with tears and her eyes are wild, desperate. Love and fear overpower Vax for a moment, take hold of him, still him. He stands, helpless, hopeless, as he watches his sister release an arrow and as he watches the arrow’s flight. It hits one of their pursuers in the arm, and the man falls back for a moment, clutching at the shaft. There are only two men – the goliath must have been stymied at the door and these two must have spotted the four of them fleeing. They are yards and yards behind.

The other man responds with an arrow of his own. It spins past Vex’s shoulder, shrieking in the wind. He follows immediately with another, and this one hits closer to its mark. Vex yelps as it nicks her side. 

“Vex’ahlia!” screams Vax, suddenly released. Terror drives him forward, to Vex, past Cassandra, who does not move. “We can’t!” 

They’ve saved Percy. They can’t do more. 

Vax grabs at his sister, tries to force her head down to make her a smaller target. 

“I don’t want to leave her! I don’t want to leave another home!” sobs Vex. Another arrow shrieks past them. Vax turns his body so that he’s blocking Vex entirely and he sees the realization spark in Vex’s eyes. He’ll die before he lets her slow down. 

“If it were me,” she says. 

“You’re _you_ ,” he cries. “I have you and Percy and we have to go!” 

An arrow strikes him in the shoulder, glancingly, but enough to send him staggering forward. He yelps in pain, and Vex’s eyes flash with fury. She catches him and then steps around him, her bow once more up. She fires. 

And then she turns. Finally, she turns. Vax nearly sobs with relief. He cannot think of Cassandra – of Percy’s sister – lying dead behind them. He can only think of Vex beside him, Percy ahead. 

He finds he cannot move. What if it were Vex? A few steps ahead, Vex turns and looks at him. As one, they race back to Cassandra's body. Vax has never been so grateful for his sister's keen eye and quick hand; her arrows have bought them a little time. They pick Cassandra up and support her between them. Neither is very strong, but Cassandra is light, and, together, they manage. She does not stir, but it's all they can do at this point to carry her body through the freezing woods. Maybe dawn will bring them better news.

Percy is hundreds of feet away from them by now. He has not looked back. They follow him. They flee. The falling snow covers their tracks.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear nighimpossible, 
> 
> I am really sorry about the, er, canon appropriate(?) ending. Despite that, I hope you enjoyed! I loved your prompts and really enjoyed writing this. 
> 
> <3


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